


dear fellow traveller

by arochill



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crew as Family, Family Dynamics, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Graphic Violence, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 02:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30014724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arochill/pseuds/arochill
Summary: In a world like theirs, where the ocean was just as forgiving as the ones on it, people like them could never be accepted.Freedom was difficult to obtain in a world like theirs. Despite that, they found each other and held as tight as they could. Being a pirate wasn’t so bad when you had other people just like you at your side.or, in which Techno and Phil are the most wanted men in the world, Tommy wants to join them, and Wilbur is just along for the ride.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 32
Kudos: 159





	1. technoblade, scourge of the sea

Technoblade was born in a time of chaos, in a time when pirates were only beginning to become more and more prominent across the world. He was born, and he was taught to draw blood, and he was simply a tool that was used as others saw fit. It was what he was born for.

There was no freedom, no life for him outside of what was decided on him the moment he was born. 

He was born to pirates that only sought out to destroy, who saw pleasure only in bringing about hate and anger and bloodshed. He was born to pirates who didn’t even have their own bounties. All he was good for, according to the world, was violence.

Technoblade was born in the midst of blood and screams and his first years of life hadn’t been any different. If he was honestly, he would never be entirely sure of those years, it was far too long ago and was mostly filled with pain. He has just known that it hurt, and that he needed to escape.

He didn’t remember how he escaped.

(“Get off the ship, kid. Get out of here. _Run._ Don’t worry about me… I’ll be fine.”)

Phil was the one to find him, covered in blood and sand, feet dipped in seawater.

Phil was the one to take him in, barely any hesitation in his decision. Phil was the only person to look at him and see a lonely kid who had been left behind and forgotten.

He was the first person to look at him and see a person instead of a tool. He hadn’t known that, not at first. But Phil was patient. He was so, _so_ patient.

It was years before Techno was able to understand that fully.

There was chaos in Technoblade’s soul. Phil, a few years after he had taken Techno in, told him that he had seen that chaos from the very moment they had first met. It was familiar, Phil had told him. It was something Phil saw in the mirror in his teenage years, when he had sailed the sea under the most wanted pirate crew in the world.

Techno could read between the lines. Phil, like the people Techno had originally been brought up by, had been a pirate once. Still was, if Techno was reading him correctly.

It didn’t come as much of a surprise. Phil had always been strange – taking in a teen covered in blood, teaching him how to fight with a sword, laughing at tales that were darker than usual. Phil had taught him the sky and it’s meanings, and it had been spoken with such familiarity that Techno wasn’t sure he would ever be able to fully understand.

Phil was the one to take him back onto the sea, wanting to teach Techno how to steer a ship. Phil had been the one to look at him and hold Techno’s hand’s carefully, telling him of a world beyond the sand and beyond the sky that shone above them. Phil was the one to smile when Techno spoke of the blood that called for him to slice and slaughter and bring about disaster to a world he had never even explored.

(“Show me what you can do?”)

Techno was born of chaos and fire and blood, and he would return that all back to the world tenfold. Phil thought being a pirate would suit him. Techno hadn’t been sure but Phil gifted the teen one of his smaller boats either way. Techno was only fourteen.

By the time Technoblade was seventeen, his name was in every town across the world, spoken in fear of the pink-haired pirate captain. It wasn’t entirely on purpose. Phil had returned to his hometown, letting Techno forge his path in the world on his own. The world took hold of his path, and the chaos in Techno’s soul led the way.

Captain Technoblade couldn’t see himself as anything _but_ a pirate now. He had Phil to thank for that. He had himself to thank for continuing the path. He had never felt more at home than he did on the waves.

The thing is, Technoblade is not a kind man. People couldn’t even look him in the eyes. No, he wasn’t kind. Not in the way that Phil is. _No one_ was kind in the way Phil was – especially when they were a pirate. It’s what brought about the world government’s ire, and it was what had people stepping away from him whenever he made port in order to stock up on supplies.

He was chaos in a single man and his crew were no different. He was accidental destruction with pink hair stuffed under a red tricorn hat. He was the extension of a blade that people were terrified of seeing attached to its master.

Technoblade was the most wanted man in the world.

It was mostly an accident.

When the world first heard his name, Technoblade hadn’t even been aware of what he had done. Phil had thought it a good idea to challenge Techno to see who could obtain the most amount of treasure by the month's end, and Techno had never been one to back l down from a challenge.

(It became a regular challenge after that month.)

He had thought that taking down a corrupt kingdom would be a good first start – after all, if he was able to hear the stories from across the sea he _knew_ it had to be bad. He hadn’t been wrong. The town had let him pass by, sword strapped to his waist, with not even a second glance. They had watched him walk up to the castle overlooking the small port town, and they did nothing to stop him.

It had been simple, taking down the guards of the castle and doing the exact same thing to the king that had been so cruel to his subjects. It had been simple, freeing those the king had captured and put in the dungeons beneath his castle for unjust reasons. It had been simple, finding the king’s loot room and ransacking it in the way that Phil had taught him all those years ago.

But when he had walked his way down the road, back into the small port down, there had been no smiles when they had seen his bags of treasure and the blood that stained his blade. There had only been the stink of fear and anger and there had only been shouts of “pirate!” and “monster” when he had told them all that he had freed them from the king’s rule. He should have expected such a reaction.

He was headed to his ship - a gift from Phil when they had parted ways for the first time in what felt like forever - before they had a chance to collect their weapons in order to chase him out. Before the day was over he had the world authorities after him and a bounty of over 10 thousand on his head. In the next month, as he fulfilled his and Phil’s bet, that number only grew.

When he and Phil finally met up at the end of that month, loot chests filled to the brim, it was Phil’s proud grin and Techno’s bounty proudly displayed on the older man’s ship that left Techno with what could only be excitement in his chest.

When Phil headed out after that, panting from their spare, Techno searched his loot chests. In one was the loot he had gained from the castle raid. At the top, the king’s crown, still stained with blood. On top of Techno’s captain’s hat - a red and black tricorn hat, outlined with gold - he sat that crown. It rested perfectly around the crown of his hat.

Within half a year, everyone knew to stand back when a man with a sharp, gold encrusted cutlass and a tricorn hat matched with a blood stained crown came into town.

Before the year was out, everyone knew the name of Technoblade.

The chaos that pulsed through Techno’s veins had never been more pleased, and Techno knew that being a pirate was his calling. He couldn’t see himself ever doing anything else. Technoblade was born to be a pirate, so a pirate he became. The world echoed back with disapproval, and all Techno could do was grin, terrifying and covered in blood.

As Technoblade grew older, as the world all began to know his name, he never left Phil behind. The world knew him and Phil as rivals, as mortal enemies that were forever locked in battle.

The rivalry, at least, they weren’t wrong about.

It was almost easy to fall into step with Phil. It was familiar to raise his sword and push back the weight of Phil’s deadly fighting prowess. Phil was home, just as much as the ocean had long since become.

(Phil held him when he screamed, when the fire behind his eyes grew too much even though it had been years since. Phil looked after him in a way he never had before. Phil was gentle when his mind was at war with himself, Phil was the calm that existed in the storm that was Techno’s life. Unlike their rivalry, this was the one thing the world would never learn about.)

(Phil was his quiet in the storm, even if Techno was never able to admit it aloud.)

Techno didn’t remember much of his past before Phil. He didn’t know why a sword in his hand felt so familiar, even before he was fully taught to use it. He didn’t know why conquering land and bringing about destruction and looting villages felt like something he was _made_ to do. He didn’t know, and he couldn’t find it in himself to mind.

He had no real reason to try and find out the reasoning towards it. It was so long ago, and he was a different man than the child that had been born only to be used by others.

But Phil waited for him, challenged him, even when Technoblade became a name heard more often than that of Philza. Phil pushed him, and he ran circles around him, and Phil was a breath of fresh air that he hadn’t known he was missing until he had met the man.

If there was one thing that Technoblade understood, it was freedom. Phil taught him that.

Technoblade was a monstrosity that the world would never understand how to deal with.

He was a force to be reckoned with, and his well known rivalry with the pirate Captain Philza left many even more afraid than they already were.

But being a pirate didn’t make Techno forget his roots. Sailing the seas and learning about the world and being with Phil didn’t change the fact that he was born in a world that hated him the moment he took his very first breath. He was a force to be reckoned with because he didn’t know any different - because however much he enjoyed being a pirate, there would always be something wrong that he could never fully explain. There would always be voices at the back of his head screaming that he was doing something wrong.

He knew it was because, as much as he was not as kind as Philza, he did not kill unless he had to. That royal family and the guards all those years ago had been enough proof of how quickly danger could befall him if he did something wrong.

His bloodlust needed to be sated. It was the reason that the pirate crew that he raised him all those years ago had fallen as quickly as they had upon his birth. The world was not kind, and neither was being a pirate. He knew, despite all the years that he ignored it, that he would need to use his blade one day and it would be aimed at someone who did not deserve it.

He knew that Phil knew that just as well as he did, and that it had been one of Phil’s main reasons for leading him on the path to becoming a pirate. To take control of his own life and meet others that were just like him and Phil - people that were one with the waves and freedom and the chaos of the world. Those that could sate his lust for blood without making him draw it.

It was meeting Wilbur, bright and expressive and _new,_ that made him realise that it wasn’t just Phil that could calm his bloodlust. It was Wilbur, with his expressive words and body language, who stood in front of him unafraid despite everything people said about Technoblade, scourge of the sea.

(“Techno, this is Wilbur.” Phil smiled, and he pushed forwards a brunette man who smiled at him hesitantly, “he’s my new musician and navigator.”

”Phil, I thought that wasn’t official!” The man, Wilbur, exclaimed.

Phil only laughed.)

It was Wilbur, wearing the familiar coat of those that went against everything Techno believed in. Wilbur, who grinned at him with almost too-sharp teeth, and sailed with blood on his hands from how long he held his guitar. Wilbur, who had grown up forced into a role that he never had a choice to leave – like Techno, if he had never been found by Phil all those years ago.

But it was strange, meeting Wilbur. Wilbur was older than him and yet was so young in terms of learning about himself and the world and the ocean and _freedom._

Techno understood freedom. He knew it in the way Phil stood at the front of his ship and offered him new challenges and hung the bounty of all those under his care on the walls of his cabin. He knew it in the way the water calmed the call for blood he felt so often.

Wilbur was strange, because he was _made_ for that freedom. He was born to be on the seas, Techno could see that clearly. But he never had a chance to follow his birthright, not until Phil.

It made sense, in a way he never was able to see with himself. It was an outsider's perspective that he had never even _considered_ before. He understood it, but it was Wilbur who pushed him to fight for it for others.

(“I’m meant to hunt you down, Blade. Did you know that?” Wilbur leaned a table, carefully marking off land on a map as he spoke. 

“‘Course I did. I’m not stupid.”

“No, man. Didn’t say you were,” Wilbur laughed, and he tilted his head back to look Techno in the eyes. “Don’t tell Phil I said it, but I think he might be scarier than you are. Didn’t think it was possible. Don’t tell him I said that though, he’d never let me live it down.”

Techno stared. Wilbur laughed harder.

“Anyway, mate. Wanna help me mark out where we should head next?” Wilbur asked, still smiling as he turned back to his maps.

Techno could have let it be. He could have walked away and continued on his way without changing his life at all. Techno didn’t know what he was thinking but —

“Would you like to travel with me for a while, Wilbur?”)

It was Wilbur.

Under the moon, in a village at the edge of the world, Techno came to conquer. There, Technoblade met a child with mud mattered golden hair.

He could have left without saying a word to the kid. It would have been easy. He could have ignored the child and his bright eyes. It shouldn’t have mattered to him. He could have sailed away and left the kid to spend the rest of his life on an island that hated him.

He didn’t know why he entrusted that kid with his sword, not until he finally told Phil of that day. Phil always seemed to have the answer. Even years later, that hadn’t changed.

(He had seen the same chaos in that boy’s eyes that Phil had seen in his, all those years ago.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m so, so excited to finally get this out there! i’ve been having so much fun with this story and the ideas for it, and just. i hope you enjoyed!! it means the world to me that you’d check it out :)
> 
> there’ll be 5 chapters by the end of this, and they’re all done, so keep an eye out for those in the future!
> 
> (side note, the title came from “dear fellow traveller” by sea wolf, which i’ve been listening to a lot as i wrote this!)
> 
> let me know what you thought! i love getting comments and learning what people enjoyed about my stories :)


	2. tommy, captain of chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People didn’t like him, Tommy knew that much. They looked at him and saw his parents and never him and he was fine with that.
> 
> It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try and do something about it.

They told him that his parents were good-for-nothing pirates, and he would only turn out the same. Pirates were the evil ones, and it was a good thing that the authorities sent his parents' ship into the ocean and waves to fester in Davy Jones Locker. They told him they weren’t sure how he survived that day. According to the village that raised him, he was found half-dead on the shores of their village.

The village had taken him into their midst, and they had kept him alive. They had helped raise him, teach him. He lived by the shores where his parents drowned and he was always reminded of that.

He wasn’t sure why they kept him alive.

They taught him what they knew, and they never hesitated to tell him where he came from. They never hesitated to share with him that his parents were the monsters in people's nightmares. They never hesitated to tell him, even when he was younger and more naive and so much more agreeing, that his path would end as theirs did.

For a long time, Tommy had agreed with them. He had no reason not to. The village was his family and they had raised him. He had no reason to go against them. They were right, and that was all there was to it.

He grew up knowing in his blood ran the blood of a pirate. He grew up hating himself for it.

Until the day Captain Technoblade came to his shores, pink hair striking, sword strapped to his waist, and his red eyes dark and bloodthirsty and _kind._ Everyone in the village had been petrified, stared stiff and pale, and Tommy had been the one to take action and take the man to the nearest store for supplies. Later that day, the people of the village told him that they thought the pirate was going to kill him that day.

Tommy would never tell anyone else, not until he was old enough to hold his own against those who would kill him for the information, but Technoblade had left behind his sword during his trip to Tommy’s village.

The sword had been left right outside the door to Tommy’s home. Despite how young he was, he had been immensely glad that he was an orphan – if only because it meant he had no parents to take his sword away from him.

Tommy remembered that day with clarity.

He remembered Technoblade returning to his ship the next day. He remembered _knowing_ he should try and return the sword to the renowned pirate, but some part of Tommy told him to keep it safe. To keep it _hidden._

Tommy remembered Technoblade’s words when the man left, headed out to sea. He remembered how those red, red eyes had looked at him so knowingly. And he remembered the smirk on that pirate's face.

“You’ll be a fine pirate kid. I’ll see you around to get that sword back. Don’t forget.”

Tommy had decided he wanted to be a pirate not soon after. He wouldn’t be like his parents. He wouldn’t be what the village thought he would become.

He would be like _Technoblade._

He would be a Pirate Captain.

And _everyone_ would know his name. Tommy wouldn’t let anyone, _anything,_ stop him.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing out here on your own?”

Tommy scrambled to his feet, shouting his surprise as he stumbled backwards, nearly tripping off the edge of the pier behind him.

A hand reached out and steadied him. Tommy shoved it away immediately.

“Fuck you! I’ll do what I want.” Tommy exclaimed, scowling, arms crossed in front of him.

The man in front of him laughed. Tommy didn’t stop scowling.

“That right, mate? So there’s no reason you were out here staring at me ship, was there?” 

Tommy’s arms stopped to his side. He stared at the man — the pirate? – in shock.

“I–” Tommy began, forcing himself to remain calm, “No?”

The pirate laughed again, stepped forwards, and wrapped a muscular arm around Tommy’s shoulder.

“Wanna be a pirate, kid? I’ve got a job for you.”

Tommy became a cabin boy.

It was all they would really _let_ him become, at his age. It was either cabin boy or they would leave him behind, and Tommy had known his choice between the two immediately. He did so reluctantly, and not without picking fights with every member of the crew he had taken up residence with.

They always made sure to make fun of him. They thought him a kid they brought along on their voyage. They thought being a cabin boy was all he ever would be able to become. It hardened his already strengthened want to become a captain, rather than one of the crew mates.

It was easier than he thought it would be. He thought joining a crew would be harder. But they took him aboard with barely any hesitation, and he had been dressed in a cabin boys outfit by the end of the day.

It wasn’t what he wanted, not exactly, but it was a _start._ And that was exactly what Tommy needed.

They were a chaotic lot. He found himself having to steal back his own possessions at least once a day. There was never much privacy on that ship, and anything he had was theirs. They listened to their captain, and they looted nearby ships and towns, and they fought alongside one another with practiced ease.

They were soldiers, the first pirate crew he met. They were fighters who only sought fame and fortune and did not care about the others in their group.

They were not much of a family.

They were everything he was expecting from a group of pirates – and nothing at all what he wanted.

He had left within a month.

He met Tubbo on one of the first islands he travelled to on his own. Tommy would never admit to being _lost_ when he came across Tubbo’s home, but in the end it was a combination of fate and luck that had the seas pushing them to meet.

Tubbo was different than anyone Tommy had met in his travels. The people of Tommy’s home village were familiar in a way that came with being raised by normal humans – traders and fish men and merchants. Humans. Tubbo kept bushy hair over goat horns, and his ears were long and soft and Tommy had found that out entirely on accident.

His town hid him away, keeping him on land and forcing him to stay with them.

Tommy only came across the other teen because Tubbo had sought him out. There was a stubbornness in Tubbo when they spoke the first time. He hadn’t taken no for an answer, even though his body shook when he saw the saber attached to Tommy’s waist. But Tubbo hadn’t been afraid to make his request.

Tubbo wanted to travel the world.

There had been an ocean in Tubbo’s eyes when they met. Tubbo had seen his ship, and he had seen the makeshift sail Tommy had raised, and Tubbo asked for him to take him with him as he traversed the sea.

Tubbo wasn’t human.

Tommy didn’t care.

“Can you navigate?”

“What, can you _not?_

Tubbo became his first mate.

(It was the best decision Tommy had ever made.)

All his life, Tommy had heard stories of pirates. His earliest memories were filled with horror stories – of the dangerous beasts that ravaged towns and slaughtered civilians for their own gain, swords at their sides and flags flying high above their ships, telling the world who they were.

He remembered waking up some nights, terrified the pirates captain’s would come to his village and kill them all. Tommy was sure that was what the people who raised him were hoping for. They tried to stop him from going down that path.

He was told stories of Captain Technoblade, the most hated pirate in the Seven Seas. He was told of his prowess in battle. He was told of the bloodshed the pirate brought with him everywhere he went. He was told of how the man stood at the top of the world, unafraid and powerful. He was never told of the man’s humanity – not until the day the man came to his home.

Just the same, he was told about Captain Philza. Kind, apparently. Technoblade’s rival and just as terrifying in battle. Perhaps more so, some of the people in the village told Tommy. Phil was unassuming. He brought down your guard and brought about death in a way that had people calling him the _angel_ of it.

They were both captains, and they had long since proved to the world just how terrifying that made them. Tommy couldn’t hold back the awe he felt towards them.

The people who raised him never said a word about his parents. All he knew was that they were crewmates on a pirate ship. They had been weak and expendable. And they had died for it.

Tommy wanted to prove himself to the world that he wasn’t like his parents. He wanted to prove to the world that he could stand alongside Captain’s like Technoblade and Philza, and he wanted to watch the people who raised him tell _stories_ about Captain TommyInnit for years to come.

He would prove to himself that TommyInnit was his own man, and nothing his parents did in the past would define him. He would become the Pirate Captain people looked in awe at, just as he had done that day he met Captain Technoblade.

It wasn’t easy. Exploring the world with only a two person crew, with both of you inexperienced on the sea, could never have been a simple thing. Nevertheless, Tommy _loved_ it.

He loved the thrill he got from a storm when they were nowhere near an island. He loved the shouts that echoed after him as he stole and pillaged and incited chaos. It was more of a home than the place he had grown up in had ever been.

It wasn’t easy. The world government was after them the moment they finally raised their flag, and they didn’t care that he and Tubbo were teenagers or that they had only just begun their life of piracy.

(It hadn’t even been a year yet, but Tommy already had his fair share of wounds from the Inquisitors that were stent to hunt them down. He didn’t mind, but Tubbo – well. Tubbo was dangerous with a cutlass as soon as he picked up how to use it and Tommy didn’t want to ever be on the wrong side of his blade.)

Over time, his two-person crew grew. Over time, Tubbo began to smile even more, even though he was constantly forced to help fix the problems Tommy had caused. The ship grew full, and Tommy obtained a new one, one sturdy enough for the family he was gaining.

Tubbo brought a young man he called Ranboo aboard. The boy was tall, and lanky, and already dressed in a cabin boy's clothes. In a way, Tommy had felt like he was staring eye to eye with a replica of himself. Tubbo had been smiling, and Tommy had never seen his friend more excited than when he introduced Ranboo and asked for him to join their crew.

He invited the boy aboard, under the condition that Ranboo would be his cook. On Ranboo’s second day on the crew, he baked them all a cake. It took all Tommy had not to start crying then and there. But he was a pirate captain, their leader, so he didn’t cry.

(Not until he was inside his cabin, and he was looking down at the sword Technoblade had given him all that time ago.)

It felt like a family, in a way his first crew had never been able to.

Tommy’s crew only continued to grow.

And the world continued to grow more fearful.

Tommy raided villages but he made sure to never kill. He would be a pirate, but he wouldn’t be what the world thought he was. He took down government officials that hunted him down, but they were always alive to tell the story of the kid-captain that took them down. He sought out stories and new land, and Tubbo would guide them across the world with a smile on his face every time he heard the crash of the waves.

Tubbo would follow behind him, a hand on his own sword and his exasperation was clear every time they were forced to run from a new gang of pirates or a group of authorities that they had managed to piss off.

He fought against other pirates, learning more and more against sword fighting with each encounter. He never let Technoblade’s sword leave his hand, even when the battle seemed lost.

Tommy waited for news about the well-known pirate captains of the world, and he watched, and he planned. Of course, even as he waited he watched chaos unfold at his hand.

It was beautiful.

He was having so much fun.

“Tommy, no.”

“Tommy, yes!”

_“Tommy.”_

“Tubbo, it’ll be easy! They won’t even notice us, I swear!”

“Tommy, I literally have goat horns. They _will_ notice us. Are you an idiot?”

Tommy squawked, swatting at Tubbo’s shoulder.

“How dare you! I am your _captain,_ Tubbo!”

“Yeah, well, you think that stealing from _Captain Philza_ is a good idea. What makes you think we’d be able to do that? He’ll kill us!”

Tommy snickered.

“He won’t! I told you, Tubbo! I have a plan!”

“…does that plan involve explosives, by any chance?”

Tommy crossed his arms and looked away.

“…maybe.”

“ _Tommy, no.”_

He and Tubbo and Ranboo and their newfound crew stole Captain Philza’s loot.

The second time Tommy met Technoblade, nearly ten years after they first met, he stole the infamous pirate captain’s treasure. It was somehow easier to convince Tubbo to let him do it then it was with Phil.

Technoblade, however, didn’t give up chasing him as easy as Phil had seemed to.

“Catch me if you can, idiot!”

It was through sheer luck that they were able to escape without obtaining too much damage to their ship.

Tommy didn’t stop laughing, leaning against one of the chests they had obtained. He didn’t stop laughing until Technoblade was far behind them and they were far enough away to weigh anchor. It was one of the best days of Tommy’s life.

And with that day, it brought about a new era in Tommy’s life. Because the entirety of the pirate world and even those out of it were after him and Tubbo for the treasure they had managed to gain. Because they had looked at him and seen a cabin boy and nothing more. They hadn’t seen the pirate captain that he was.

They hadn’t believed it was him when Philza’s treasure disappeared.

But the world knew how powerful Technoblade was. They knew he wouldn’t chase a teenager and his smaller than usual crew without reason.

His entire crew had cheered, but none more-so than Tommy.

Tommy had never smiled quite as hard as he had the day he got the monthly news and there was a wanted poster with the name “Captain TommyInnit” written in clear writing. He kept his first wanted poster inside the captain quarters of his ship, and it always made him happy to see.

(He ignored the fact that it was Tubbo’s face on the poster. He should have known wearing his cabin boy outfit even after becoming a captain wouldn’t be received well by the government.)

“I’ll prove to them all that I’m more than my parents!”

(But it was a statement to the world, and he would stay wearing these clothes for as long as he could.)

It was the start of a new life.

It was the beginning of Captain Innit.

It was the dawn of a new era of the pirate age.

The world would never be ready for what was to come. As it turned out, Tommy never would be either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woah !! already 500 hits on this and it’s only been a few days. seriously, thank you for that <33 i’m so glad people seem to be enjoying this so far!! i hope you enjoyed this chapter just the same!
> 
> thank you for reading!! and as always, leave a comment and tell me what you thought! i always love to hear from you :D


	3. wilbur, the seaborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur knew land more than he knew the sea, if only because his father wanted him to train to fight more than he wanted him to learn how to manoeuvre a ship.
> 
> Wilbur never thought anything of it. It was just the way the world worked.
> 
> (He would ignore the way the sea called to him until the day he died if he had to.)

Wilbur was taught to hate pirates and those that went against the world government from a very young age. They destroyed towns and lives, and they went against the rules of the world without a care in the world. They were not human. They were creatures of the sea, and they had been the ones to drown his mother and leave her at the bottom of Davy Jones Locker.

They were not human, and he was to  _ run  _ the moment he came in contact with one of them.

His father always made sure he knew this -  _ understood  _ this. If he did not want to die like his mother had, then he was to become part of the government’s efforts to rid the ocean of the pirates once and for all.

His father didn’t lie, and the government was kind. It was all Wilbur knew.

Wilbur never had a reason to believe otherwise. He had no reason to go against his father’s wishes. He would find the pirates that had taken his mother from him, and he would avenge her. Not only for his father, but for himself as well.

In a world as big as their one, it was easy to see what his father had meant. He watched the bloodshed, and he heard the screams, and he had listened to the many horror stories that those in the government had. His father claimed the name Inquisitor, at the head of the pirate search and capture team, and he said that Wilbur would one day follow in his footsteps. Wilbur had always been proud when he heard that.

He grew up, and he trained, and he listened to the orders of the higher ups, and he memorised the names of every single pirate on the seas. It was easy. It was what he was born to do, and he enjoyed being able to bring justice to the world by ridding it of the monsters that were pirates.

He wasn’t as sure about his father’s words anymore.

All it took was a new crew member on Wilbur’s ship to send them crashing into the waves in the middle of nowhere. All it took was a freak storm that Wilbur didn’t have time to prepare the crew for. All it took was a disloyal crew and a lack of inflatable boats on board.

All it took was one outstretched hand.

Wilbur, newly dubbed Inquisitor, was left in the middle of the ocean alone. He had been quick to accept his death, as much as that pained him.

But he was saved by blond hair and a kind smile and a skull and crossbones flying over a ship that could only belong to the man Wilbur knew as Captain Philza.

He wasn’t sure about his fathers word’s, because it wasn’t the government that saved him from a death at the bottom of the ocean. It wasn’t his father that brought him aboard and overlooked Wilbur’s uniform and just  _ smiled  _ at him. It was a pirate.  _ He  _ was a pirate.

“Hey, mate. Welcome aboard.” The man said, picking Wilbur up from the floor of the pirate captain’s deck. There was only safety being promised on the man’s expression. It wasn’t something Wilbur was used to - not from his father, not from the government, not from the people that were meant to be under him on his crew.

Wilbur owed the pirate his life.

Despite the way he was raised, despite the anger that he felt at owing a pirate  _ anything,  _ Wilbur offered his services. Wilbur wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to understand the ease in which the infamous pirate Philza accepted him onto his crew.

(He could never bring himself to regret offering his services. He didn’t think that he would ever be able to go back to a time when he hunted down pirates like Phil. But that time was far on the horizon, and there was an unfounded rage that still existed in Wilbur’s body as he stood on the pirates ship.)

Wilbur wasn’t stupid. He understood the way the world worked - or, at least, he thought that he did. The world government was the good that existed in the world and the Inquisitors enforced the government's beliefs. The pirates were what existed at the bottom of Wilbur’s father’s spitoon and there was nothing good that they would ever bring to the world.

That was how it was meant to work. That was what Wilbur understood. That was what was spoken in every story he had been told, from his childhood and into his adulthood.

Pirates were not kind.

They pillaged and plundered and they murdered and left behind only destruction in their wake. They laughed deeply, drank hard, and they did not care about the misfortune of others. If one of their own crew fell overboard, they would leave that person behind and continue their journey without another thought.

Phil – as the pirate had requested to be called – was nothing like that. He saved Wilbur despite the clothes that he wore and the role he took on. Over the first week of Wilbur being onboard, Wilbur watched the pirate that had been the cause of Wilbur’s mothers death. He watched as the pirate was kind, and careful, and he made sure that everyone that was on board his ship was happy and healthy.

It didn’t make sense.

There was anger in Wilbur’s body that he couldn’t escape, and it took all he had to keep it down and buried in order to repay the man for saving his life.

He swore to himself that as soon as the debt was paid, he would exact the vengeance that his father had brought him up on.

A month passed them by quicker than Wilbur was able to notice. He didn’t try to kill the pirate captain even once, even when he had the best opportunity to do so. He wasn’t sure why.

When Wilbur was growing up he learnt how to fight before he even had a chance to learn to read. It was normal to him, despite the difficulty he still sometimes had when he had to read the reports of his subordinants. Fighting was easier than writing, despite the draw he felt towards the latter in the quiet of his own cabin where no one could hear him think.

His father had told him a long time ago that there was no use in learning the arts, because that was not where his path was leading him. Focus on killing the pirates, focus on learning to fight, focus on memorising the sailing patterns of Captain Philza. Focus on learning to accept your death, because you may not survive your fight with the pirate who killed your mother. If Philza does not kill you, then surely Captain Technoblade will come after you for killing the infamous pirates rival.

He learnt to fight, and he ignored the journals he filled front to back in poems and thoughts and songs he never allowed himself to look back through. He had no time for them. They were a waste of time and space and he knew what his father would say if he saw them.

He knew they would turn to ash.

He wasn’t sure why he hid them.

They were soaked now, unreadable. Sitting at the bottom of the ocean just like his mother.

(It was a sign. He knew that much.)

Wilbur wasn’t stupid.

He knew there was something different about him, even when his father tried to mold him into the perfect soldier. He just wasn’t sure  _ what. _

He knew whatever it was that was inside him, waiting, watching, was only growing as he spent more and more time on Phil’s ship and didn’t take a step onto land. He knew that the sea had called to him long before he had even seen it for the first time.

It took all he had to ignore it.

(He shouldn’t have ignored it.)

They didn’t ask him to fight, not here.

They gave him a journal he never expressed a need for, and Phil hung around with a smile whenever Wilbur hummed the notes to a song neither of them knew the name of yet.

Wilbur didn’t understand.

Wilbur didn’t know much about his mother, despite how much his father talked about her, despite how much he understood his fathers want to avenge her death. All he knew was that she was kind, that her smile could calm even the harshest of storms. That her voice was beautiful and it was the reason his father had first fallen in love with her.

His father stopped talking about what she was like before Wilbur had even reached 10.

He didn’t know what she looked like. He didn’t know what her voice sounded like. He didn’t have any memories of her except for those that were clouded in fog and years of age. He had accepted that a long time ago.

One member of Phil’s crew -  _ Ian,  _ if Wilbur remembered correctly - asked what his family was like, once. He should have been able to answer at least with his father, but he found himself with a clogged throat. The realisation that all he knew of his  _ father,  _ the man that had taught him and raised him, was limited to training and vengeance left a sour taste in his mouth.

Ian had only laughed, slapped him just a bit too-hard on his back, and told Wilbur that it only made him the same as the rest of them. Outcasts, loners, people that were lost in such a large world. Ian had left not long after, but his words continued to echo in Wilbur’s ears days after.

Wilbur was taught how to navigate a long time ago. It was a requirement, especially considering his past job had required him to be on the sea more so than on land. It had been fun, if time consuming.

He had found it interesting to learn all about the places around the world. It was interesting to learn about how ships moved, how the weather affected which way the sails directed them. It was interesting to learn of the islands that had been found in the past, and interesting to learn of all the places that had yet to be discovered. It was interesting in a way that fighting had never been to him.

He made sure never to let his interest slip in any conversation that he had with his father. He knew full well how the man would react.

It was calm, a happiness in the middle of an existence that Wilbur was tired of. He had never told anyone of his enjoyment of navigation, of learning the geography of the places he went and discovering new land and seeing what the world had to offer.

He was asked one day by Phil if he would like to join his crew in the navigation room in order to go over their routes, and had found himself invested in a conversation about the places the crew had explored. 

The day passed them by without Wilbur even realising. 

“If we go this way, we’ll reach it way quicker. See?”

“Holy shit, mate. I didn’t even notice. What about with these routes?”

The next day, Phil told him to hang around the navigators of his ship more and get to learn what they did.

Wilbur had never had anyone around to encourage him to explore his interests before.

“Wanna borrow our maps, Wilbur? I think you’ll find them interesting!”

“…are you sure?”

All he got was a loud laugh and par on the back in return.

None of Phil’s navigators seemed to mind his presence. In fact, they seemed  _ ecstatic  _ to have someone new around. It was a calm evening, and all he had been doing was talking.

But he thinks that day was the first time being on Phil’s ship felt like  _ home. _

He spent nearly six months aboard Phil’s ship.

It was only a matter of time.

There was always…  _ something  _ in Phil’s eyes whenever they spoke. Wilbur wasn’t surprised.

Phil told him that he knew who he was. Phil told him that he knew that Wilbur wanted to take his head, that Wilbur was a member of the government. Phil told him that he had known the entire time, and he had wrapped an arm around Wilbur’s shoulder and hummed an old pirate song that Wilbur was unable to recognise.

He could leave, Phil had said.

He could try and take Phil’s head, and then he could try and fight his way off the ship.

Or he could stay, and he could burn the uniform Wilbur had been so adamant about keeping on all this time.

It was his choice, Phil had said.

Freedom was the pirate way, Phil had told him.

So what did he want to do?

(It felt like a breath of fresh air.

He’d been feeling that a lot, lately.)

(Without the constraints of authority, Wilbur began to find himself. He wasn’t sure he would be able to trust Phil, nor the pirate crew, but when they drew him into their songs and dances and let him express himself however he wanted and never,  _ ever  _ made him do what he didn’t want - well. His father would be ashamed of him, he was sure.

He was having too much fun to care.)

Storms were unreasonable. They were the reason he had met Phil in the first place. They were the reason he had discovered just how far loyalty went in a job like his.

Phil’s boat was strong. The people on Phil’s crew were used to the push of the waves and the clap of thunderstorms. It should have been simple.

But Phil had fallen overboard and into the depths of the ocean and all Wilbur had been able to think about was his mother. It had only taken a second for Wilbur to jump overboard after the pirate captain and into the ocean.

There was shouting. He heard his name called for nearly as often as Phil’s. There was worry, and panic, and the waves thrashed him and tried to pull him under. He followed what they wanted, and he dived into the depths.

It should have been difficult – focusing on breathing while dragging a full grown man out of a wild, unforgiving ocean. It should have been difficult. And yet, nothing had ever been easier than moving through the water and dragging Phil up and out.

It felt like coming home.

(He hadn’t felt that in a long, long time.)

Phil had been laughing, a shocked realisation in his expression as Wilbur dragged them both back onto the ship.

Sirens weren’t uncommon.

Wilbur had just – he had never thought that he would be one. Not until he pulled himself onto the ship with teeth sharper than they had ever been and a tail he didn’t know he could have. There had been shock on the faces of his crew mates. But there had been even more smiles.

Wilbur had always known there was something off about himself – whether it was the longing to sing and write and explore the ocean. He had never known exactly why his father had been so adamant about teaching him to fight rather than letting him engage in the arts. He always thought it was because his father knew what was best for him and his future.

He should have known better.

(Phil told him, after the storm had passed and the water was out of his lungs, that he had met Wilbur’s mother a long time ago. A spitfire. A free spirit. A beautiful woman with red hair and a kind soul. She had saved Phil’s life at the cost of her own, and Phil had recognised her face in Wilbur’s the day they had first met. He hadn’t been sure, even then. But it was why he had let Wilbur aboard as easily as he had that day.)

(It was more than his father ever told him. It was the  _ truth.  _ Wilbur had never cried more than on that day, but they were happy tears. He had never been more relieved to learn his whole life had existed on a lie.)

The next town they found port at, Wilbur went out of his way to buy a new journal. It was thick, and it wasn’t waterproof, but he knew that none of his crewmates would ever try and destroy it. He wrote his songs, and his poems, and he sang aloud in front of a group for the first time in what seemed to be the first time in his life. Phil had only grinned, led him to the musicians of the ships, and requested them to teach Wilbur his first sea shanty.

He was onboard with pirates, people he was supposed to hate. People he had once tried to kill as his job. They should hate him, he was certain of that.

And yet.

And  _ yet. _

He had never felt more accepted than over the waves, aboard their ship.

He was certain if his old crew saw him, they would throw him overboard for subordination. He was certain if they had done so he would only laugh, and swim back to the surface with an ease he had never known before becoming a pirate.

He was sure his father would hate to learn about it. From the stories Phil told, in the quiet days when his crew was tired from partying, or even just when Wilbur  _ asked, _ Wilbur was sure his mother would be proud.

(And well, if only to himself – he knew his dad was just as proud. His captain made sure to assure him of that every single day they spoke.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we hit 1k hits! thank you so so much!! really, i’m so happy people have been enjoying this fic as much as they seem to have been!!
> 
> wilbur soot my beloved. i really enjoyed writing this chapter, and i hope you enjoyed reading it!!
> 
> let me know what you though!! :D


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